Hiding out in Kai Fusayoshi’s photographs
By Iván Díaz Sancho
PhD in Art History and Aesthetics (Kyoto University), translator, writer, and independent
researcher.
In the shade of a tree, two squatting children cover their eyes with their hands (Kakurenbo, ’Hideand-
seek’ 1976). One behind the other, reproducing the same gestures and the same game,
doubled as if one were the shadow of the other, the projection towards a future that repeats itself,
or conversely, towards memory. In the background, a bridge, leading somewhere unknown, out of
shot. The children are playing hide-and-seek, but they have broken the rules: they are both
playing the role of ogres (oni in Japanese, equivalent of the English “it”)1. There is also the
possibility that they are playing alone, for there are no children to “seek” in the vicinity. In that
case, the game would be stagnant, with no solution. So how long will they keep counting? In fact,
they have been counting since 1976, the year when Kai-san took the photograph, and they are
still counting. But who will they go looking for when they stop their silent tally? This reminds me of
a tanka poem by Shuji Terayama.
※この文章は甲斐のパリ展(2023/11)のカタログに掲載されました。
(原文は「路上の人 写真家甲斐扶佐義写真論」(2021年、八文字屋刊、日本語)より)